“We’re not going anywhere. Not this fucking band, or you guys; and you proved that to us. And at the end of the day we’re all chasing the same thing, we all end up in this same room for a reason. We’re part of something; we’re part of something that’s bigger than any single one of us.”
I may or may not be listening to the thong song.
I would like to remain not dead for the foreseeable future.
They stood in a vast courtyard several times the size of a football field, surrounded by four enormous walls made of grey stone and covered in spots of thick ivy. The walls had to be hundreds of feet high and formed a perfect square around them, each side split in the exact middle by an opening as tall as the walls themselves.